Death of a Heart
by cyndi.barragan
Summary: Because from the moment that I got to know her, I became her lead detective, interviewing witnessed, interrogating suspects, jotting down anything and everything that could explain the travesty.


Title: Death of a Heart

Author: Cyndi Barragan

Rating: T (for language)

Summary: Because from the moment that I got to know her, I became her lead detective, interviewing witnessed, interrogating suspects, jotting down anything and everything that could explain the travesty.

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Flashback

_And you can see the old her, the way that she was before her heart became her enemy. You can see how she loved with her all, with hopes that she would one day receive what she gave._

_The crime scene is very simple; all it takes is one look to know that the death was of one's own heart. That the suspect had been careless and instead of a clean crime, there was a massacre of broken love and neglectful lovers._

_You see, this girl, she never stood chance._

_She never realized how cautious she needed to be with such a delicate organ. Nobody ever does. It is ridiculous to have to live in a world where people can easily toss away the things that are given to them. Where love is no more embraced than a fatal disease because to love makes you weak, right?_

Present Day

I investigated her because she intrigued me. I had seen crimes of passion like hers before and I have been the executioner of hearts myself. You see, I know my type. I can always see where we've been just by looking at a girl. You can smell the broken promises in the air and you can see the heartache but you choose to ignore it because what happened to her is none of your business. Just like what happened to the remains of the girls' that I've hurt before is nobody's business.

It was supposed to be simple. An open and shut case. I was supposed to get in, not get attached, and get out. But this woman, she struck me like lightning, made my heart beat like thunder, causing my heart to melt into rain drops. My instincts told me to run because I had already estimated the damage before she had even opened her mouth. But then she had to go and ahead smile at me. I told myself that I had time, that I could hang around just a little bit longer. That should have worried me from the very beginning. She made me want to stay just a little bit longer.

From the moment that I got to know her, I became her lead detective, interviewing witnesses, interrogating suspects, jotting down anything and everything that could explain the travesty. Anything that would explain how and why a woman so phenomenal could get the shitty end of the stick. How someone who had the power to bring a smile to any face and make any painful blow dealt by life feel like a tickle after her encouraging words, could be anyone's target.

Reports do say that she used to be different.

Even when asked during an interview, she admitted that there was a drastic change after the murder of her heart. Watching from two way mirrors, there is a flash and you can see the past version of herself of how she used to be, the person that she says she will never be again - so careless. The other officers just sit there and shake their heads because they can tell she means it, that whoever committed the crime did more to her than anyone could ever possibly fix.

I continued with my investigation and heard different accounts, different accusations. All signs point to one, though, but you can blame various people. Whether it was the first one to let her down or the ones who failed to pick up the pieces and just left them on the floor. No, this heart had suffered a slow and painful death, causing this woman to believe that love would never exist again in her life.

I was never good with love, never wanted it in my life because I do believe that it has the power to make you weak. I believe that it is best to keep your distance from anything and everything that has the potential to scar you. You don't willingly place your hand in the fire, so why the fuck should love be any different? Nobody told me that love wasn't something that you went into consciously.

So when I placed my hand in the fire, I didn't even notice it.

My investigation then became selfish. It went from catching the perpetrator to just wanting to be able to help her let go of what had caused her so much pain.

Now, I'm no doctor, but I did have superglue and band aides, just waiting for her to say the word so that I could come and fix her. Loving her scared me to death, but allowing her to get away would have been something that I would not have been able to get over.

I was never able to close the case. It wasn't a murder. It was an assault and that is something that can be fixed with time. I could show her that although I haven't always been the hero, I would try to be hers and that I could be the one to save her with my superglue and band aides. Even if she did think that it wasn't possible. And even if wasn't, I would still try relentlessly.

Because from the moment that I got to know her, I became her lead detective, interviewing witnessed, interrogating suspects, jotting down anything and everything that could explain the travesty.


End file.
